


Now that I can Dance

by Catz95



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack Fic, Dancing, F/M, Loving the stars themselves, Romance, Tumblr, Whouffaldi Secret Santa, Whouffaldi Secret Santa 2017, loving-the-stars-themselves, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catz95/pseuds/Catz95
Summary: The Doctor refuses to dance with Clara. Can he make it up to her?





	Now that I can Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loving-the-stars-themselves (youandmeotp)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youandmeotp/gifts).



> This story is a slight AU that would have been set near the beginning of Twelve's regeneration cycle. This story was written as a Secret Santa present for Loving the Stars Themselves on Tumblr! Happy Whouffaldi Christmas! :)

In Clara Oswald's opinion, overseeing a teenage dance is a dangerous than fighting aliens. At every dance there would be crying, drunk dumb teenagers who got into their father's liquor cabinet, and probably a few nervous break downs before the night was over.  
  


However, chaperoning a Christmas Ball was a whole different beast all together. If Clara had to mend one more ripped chiffon dress, or get the janitor to clean up one more vomit mishap it would be too soon.  
  


She had helped to transform the gym into a winter wonderland; Icicles hung from the ceiling, sparkling in the gerrymandered blue light she and the dance committee had affixed around the room. There were snow flakes too that she had helped cut out and cover in glitter. Clara was sure she would be digging glitter out of her bra until spring. In fact, along with the tinsel garland and frosted table cloths, the gym was much more spectacular than she had anticipated. So, even if the event was having it's bumps in the road, she was itching to see in the future if pictures would be included in the year book.  
  


 _If_ she ever returned to her own time.  
  


Clara had arrived several months prior to this town with her Doctor; Except she wasn't sure if he was truly her Doctor anymore. Quite recently the time traveling alien with an inane ability to change his appearance without plastic surgery had regenerated.  
  


The Doctor had once been a strapping young man with a bow tie. They had even gotten to the point where they were openly flirting and kissing just before he regenerated, and his young face paired with her quite well despite her being hundreds of years his junior.  
  


But now, with his grumpy old face, he was very much her complete opposite; Right down to his severe eyebrows and unwillingness to be physical with her. Still, because they arrived together and both took teaching jobs, many rumors flew about over if Clara and The Doctor were 'involved'.  
  


The Doctor's time machine, the TARDIS, had broken a crucial navigation circuit. The TARDIS was already stubborn about where she would take the Doctor before, but now she kept stranding him at random intervals and he would have to wait for the bloody thing to come back. The Doctor couldn't take it anymore when he spent two years stuck dinosaurs. He had gone to see Clara to inform her that he had to regrow one of the TARDIS's parts when the TARDIS teleported he and Clara to rural 1963.  
  


Despite going native, often times Clara still had to keep herself from saying 'bloody' or 'arse' in regular polite conversation. Sure, she walked the walk and dressed the part, but she longed for the day when the Doctor would tell her they could finally leave. She felt even more alone with how alienated (pun intended) the relationship between her and the Doctor had become.  
  


As to how Clara got stuck with the job of running the school dances, the principle had thrust it upon her. He had said that her resume, which had been printed on psychic paper, had said she was an expert at such things. However, her first dance at the school had not gone very well.  
  


Clara was reflecting upon this when she finally got a moment of peace in between dance crises. The Doctor had refused to come to this Winter Ball after the fiasco that had happened at the last dance.  
  


-

“ _Have you seen the posters up the past week?”_  
  


_The Doctor was sat at a work bench in the back of his classroom, his tinkering glasses on, and his eyes were magnified behind the lenses. He shifted his gaze to Clara as he put his screwdriver down. “For the dance?”_   
  


“ _Yes. And I've been roped into being on the decoration committee.”_  
  


_On the flier had been a stars and planets theme, something that the Doctor had noted right away. He scratched his gray hair absently and sighed. “Been missing the universe?”_   
  


“ _Always,” Clara had replied. She held out a flier for him to look over and he had taken it._  
  


“ _Will you be my date?” Clara had asked. Hope lit up her eyes, and her bobbed hair curled around her cheeks, giving her a look of child-like enthusiasm._  
  


_The Doctor had looked over the flier one more time, before looking at her again. “I suppose someone needs to look after you,” He pressed his lips together in thought. “Can't leave you to deal with a room of strange teenagers after all.”_   
  


-

_T_ _he Doctor had_ _had_ _his hands in the pockets of his plaid slacks_ _as he stood by the punch bowl_ _. Clara had tasked him with making sure it didn't get spiked while she de_ _a_ _lt with a small crying emergency in the girl's bathroom. Indeed, his knitted brows did seem to be intimidating enough to keep the boys_ _at bay for the time being._   
  


_Clara had returned, looking slightly disheveled but pleased with herself. She walked to the Doctor, and extended her hand to him. “Care to dance?”_   
  


_The Doctor looked at all the children dancing about and shook his head. “I don't think I'm much of a dancer now.”_   
  


_A low sigh fell from Clara's lips as she lowed her extended hand. “You weren't much of a hugger either until you got use to me.”_   
  


_Disappointment drenched her voice making the Doctor wince._   
  


“ _This is different.”_  
  


“ _How?”_  
  


“ _I don't know where to put any of my limbs.”_  
  


“ _Are you seriously worried about how you'll look?”_  
  


_The Doctor rubbed his arm down to his elbow and looked at Clara with an uncomfortable glance. He didn't like to admit it, but he was worried. What if he made a total arse of himself? What if he embarrassed Clara? He would possibly lose all his creditability with his students, and who knew how long it would take the TARDIS parts to be ready to be fitted, and how long they would be stuck there._   
  


“ _Well I guess next time I go to a dance I'll know not to bring you.”_  
  


_Clara did not mean for it to come out so nastily, but the Doctor could feel her frustration. In this decade she literally had no one but him, and he was constantly feeling like he disappointed her, one way or the other._   
  


_She crossed her arms and sniffed and he had silently prayed that she wouldn't start to cry, even though her eyes were doing the thing they did when they became too large for her face._   
  


“ _Clara I didn't mean I would never want to dance with you-” He said slowly, but he could tell she was still hurt._  
  


“ _It's alright Doctor, ” She had said this while looking down at her Mary Janes. “It would give the children the wrong_ _impression anyway_ _.”_  
  


-

A bitter taste filled the back of Clara's throat at the memory as she observed the children now dancing to a slow song. Unlike couples in the future, most of the teens here had 'room for the holy ghost' as the saying goes.  
  


She supposed she wouldn't had wanted to come with her to this dance either after the bitchiness of her tone last time. Still, it hurt to know that if the Doctor had still been younger looking, it wouldn't have mattered if he knew how to dance or not. The Doctor would have taken great pride in sweeping her off her feet and showing the school that he was proud to be with her.  
  


That was a big point of contention between her and the Doctor even months later after he had regenerated. They had not ever used the terms of boyfriend and girlfriend but some things just didn't need to be verbally labeled for them to be true.  
  


She would say that even now that it didn't matter what the Doctor looked like- she still wanted him and always would; but she didn't know how she felt about him being much more angry and standoffish. He was however still devastatingly handsome; a sentiment she would have doubled down on if she had seen him enter the gym a few moments prior.  
  


-

The Doctor knew that the Christmas Ball had a strict dress code of formal clothes. It took him hours to find the right suit that he could feel comfortable in and not spend the rest of his natural regeneration cycle agonizing over in the mirror. He had to admit he now looked quite fine-looking in a tailored Italian suit- and his short gray hair was quite dapper.  
  


But would Clara like it? That was most important.  
  


All around him the aroma of teens trying to cover up their teenage _stink_ permeated the air. He could tell which young men had put too much of their father's cologne before leaving the house that night. In one side of the room he saw a young girl with a corsage that had to be bigger than her head- but he supposed it fit the beehive that sat upon that head.  
  


Clara stood near the speakers, and the Doctor felt his hearts stop in his chest. She wore a peach colored dress, with perhaps a higher neck line than she would have usually chose due to needing to be the 'adult'. There was a couple other teachers near her but none were talking with her. She was studying the drink in her hand.  
  


The Doctor took a deep breath and went to where the vinyls were being played to signal those in charge that he was ready for his big performance. He knew this may not go well, but he had to try.  
  


He stepped up to the silver microphone on the stand near the bleachers and cleared his throat into it, cringing a little as his voice echoed throughout the gym.

  
Clara looked up, her eyebrows raising high into her bangs.  
  


“So...” The Doctor said, his Scottish accent impossibly thick. Seeing all the curious faces staring over at him wondering why the music had stopped did not help his anxiety. “I have an apology to make... to a little lady, who has my heart.”  
  


He was sure to omit the fact he happened to have two of those.  
  


As the song he chose for Clara came onto the speakers, he walked into the middle of the now deserted dance floor. The children had formed a ring around it, and were giggling and whispering to each other.  
  


Clara had not moved, rooted to the spot at the edge of the circle, with a mortified look on her face.  
  


“ _ **You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance,**_

_**You didn't even want me around** _

__**And now I'm back to let you know... I can really shake 'em down”  
  
**

The Doctor pulled his sonic sunglasses out from his pocket He pressed a button on the side, and with technology that _certainly_ was NOT available in the time period they were in, stars and snow flake lights began whizzing around the dim room, causing ooohs and awws from the crowd.  
  


“ _ **Do you love me? (I can really move)**_

_**Do you love me? (I'm in the Groove)** _

_**Now do you love me?** _

__**(Do you love me now that I can dance?)”  
  
**

Clara couldn't believe her eyes. She was watching the Doctor do the twist and the mashed potato at the same time. She had to bite back a hysterical laugh as he went low, twisting his ankles about and waving his fists. He was not doing it perfectly but _by God he was trying._  
  


“ ** _Watch me, now_**

_**(Work work) Ah, work it out baby** _

_**(Work work) well, I'm gonna drive you crazy** _

_**(Work Work) ah, just a little bit of soul, now?** _

__**(Work)”  
  
**

Just as Clara was questioning what to do with herself (She considered running away screaming) the Doctor pulled her into the ring of students, and a high blush formed on her cheeks.  
  


“ _ **I can mash potatoes (I can mash potatoes)**_

_**I can do the twist (I can do the twist)** _

_**Tell me baby, do you like it like this?”** _

 

At those words, the Doctor began to pelvic thrust at her. Part of her wanted to sink into the ground and the other part of her wanted to cry from how adorable this all was.  
  
  
The Doctor grasped her hand and pulled her close and whispered the line “Tell me, do you love me,” into her ear, causing her to shiver. She knew nobody else realized he had done this because it just looked like he was pulling her close to dance with him.  
  


He grasped her other hand and began leading her to twist as well. Soon the rest of the room was also twisting and mashing potatoes and she was sure she saw a couple students doing the monkey.  
  


Clara danced with him and by the end of the song she was out of breath and the rest of the room had gone on to dance to the next song. She looked at the Doctor with wide misty eyes “You didn't have to do this for me.”  
  


“But I wanted to...” The Doctor ran his hand down her back and looked her face over. “Clara, I know I've changed but my feelings haven’t.”  
  


Clara opened her mouth to reply, but her eyes had shifted above the Doctor's head and a sly smile grew on her lips. A holographic mistletoe hung above them.  
  


“Are you responsible for that too?” Clara giggled, nuzzling her face into his neck in a shy way.  
  


“Mmm... I think that one is the TARDIS, the cheeky girl.”  
  


“She's got the right idea...” Clara stood on her tip toes and softly kissed his lips, which he eagerly returned, to a sudden round of applause around them.  
  


Clara blushed again and put her face back into the Doctor's shoulder. He barked at the teenagers to bugger off.  
  


The Doctor sighed and dug his fingers gently into Clara's back. “I think this counts as your Christmas present for the next millennia.”  
  


“I'll take it,” Clara whispered, as she kissed him once more.

**Author's Note:**

> The song featured in this story is Do you Love Me (Now that I can Dance) by the Contours. I do not own any rights to this song and portions of it were used as fair use for no profit. The song can be found on Youtube.


End file.
